


If you could see me now

by GleamingGreenGoggles



Category: Dream Team RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GleamingGreenGoggles/pseuds/GleamingGreenGoggles
Summary: George kept his end of the stupid contract, even if he doesn't know if Dream even saw, but Dream didn't keep his, and it turns out George is more upset about that than he expected.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 447





	If you could see me now

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the YouTube highlights of the stream where Dream’s trying to get George to say _I love you_ and George is trying to get Dream to show him his face, and this happened. Kablammo, over 3k words.
> 
> I tweaked reality a little, obviously: I don’t think George actually seemed pissed off, it just worked better that way, and I honestly have no idea who else has seen Dream’s face. It sorta seemed from the video that Sap has? Maybe?
> 
> First posted fic in this fandom, but I already have a coffeeshop AU underway for these two as well, mostly written actually, but this came out of nowhere. Please let me know if I’ve made any glaring errors.

His stream is offline, his PC off, his bedroom lights off. In the sudden darkness, he tries to get his head straight. It's hard sometimes, to draw the line between the bits that are real, and what's a performance for tens of thousands of people.

They have to talk about it sometimes, after. To make sure that no-one crossed a line, that shrieking and yelling online don't mean real anger, that teasing doesn't mean real hurt. That no-one pushes too hard for a laugh. It's too easy to judge everything on the glimpses of thousands of messages alone.

But this, they haven't talked about.

And after all the back and forth, the stupidity, he'd said it. He's said it to everyone, except the one person who kept saying they wanted to hear him say it.

He can't take it back - it'll be clipped on Twitch, remixed on Instagram, and posted to compilations on youtube and fanvids on TikTok.

And Dream still wouldn't.

Turns out, it wasn't just whilst he was live. He wasn't just letting himself get wound up for the viewers' sakes, wasn't just playing it up for the audience. He is angry, he is pissed off. He put himself out there and it meant nothing. If singling him out is just for the joke, it isn't funny. If it's for real, then they can get fucked.

Before he thinks too much about it, he grabs his phone and calls Dream.

"George? I thought you were done for the night."

"What exactly is the problem, Dream."

"What the fuck?"

"Why can't I see you? I kept my end of the stupid contract."

"George, it was only a joke." Dream is almost laughing. George isn't. "I didn't think you would, I wasn't going to."

"Exactly. That's the point. We've known each other for years, _actually years_. And I thought we were friends, but what kind of friends flat out refuses to show you their face? I don't get it." He's being overdramatic, but he doesn't care right now.

"I don't want people knowing what I look like, ok?" Dream sounds as confused as he is offended. "You know that George, what the hell."

"Yeah, but it's not just that, is it. You know what _I_ look like, and Bad and Sapn-"

"You guys have facecams, the whole internet knows you already-"

" _But they know what you look like!_ " George snaps. "I'm the _only one_ who doesn't."

There's a pause.

"George-"

"So what is it? Is there something I've done that you won't show me? If there is then fucking tell me." George is shaking, doused in the adrenaline of running headlong into the type of conflict he usually does his best to avoid. "Do you not trust me? Think I'll post it online the moment I get a chance? Or what?" He's aware he's heading fast for shouting, but the words are coming out like they've just been waiting for the first chance, and he doesn't feel like stopping them. "You're always going on about me being weird about it, what I'd do if I had even a photo of you, and how is that fair when other people we've never met can send you photos of me to your fucking PO box? You never shut up about getting me to say I love you, is it that? Were you trying to get me to say it so that's your out? _Oh we all know he loves me, it would be weird now._ Are you honestly scared that I might be gay? Well congrats, you're right, I kinda am."

There's sudden, deafening silence, and George curses himself with every single word he knows. This is why he doesn't do this, let himself go and say whatever comes out. Because he was definitely not planning to out himself to Dream tonight, but that's what he's just managed to do. Fuck. _Fuck._

"George…" Dream says, seemingly at a loss for anything else to say.

"You know what? Never mind, doesn't matter," George says, and ends the call, tossing his phone out of reach onto his bed. Whatever Dream is going to say next, it can't be good, and George doesn't want to hear it.

He slumps forwards onto his desk, letting his head thump into his hands and taking fistfuls of his hair. His hands clench and it yanks at his scalp. If he pulls tightly enough on it then maybe he won't cry.

It doesn't work. Instead he throws himself back into his chair and lets himself feel pathetic. At least in the darkness he's definitely safe from being seen like this. He's still shaking, adrenaline still buzzing, anxiety desperately crawling up the back of his neck, icy cold and sweat-flushed at the same time. There really isn't any coming back from this - he can't take it back, and even _with_ all the dumb jokes they make about this shit, he can't just play it off as that - this isn't the same. All he can think of is all those years of friendship he was just talking about meaning something now inevitably up in smoke, all because he just had to be a brat, because he couldn't just accept what he had and had to go demanding more, and because when he's angry he loses his filter. He's practically just proved all the mocking right, too - yes he likes guys, and yes he's upset that he doesn't know what Dream looks like. You don't need a thousand IQ to put two and two together here. And there's no point kidding himself; without Dream, that's YouTube over. Maybe he could keep doing Twitch, but it won't be the same. Every little bit of life he'd somehow managed to build over the past year, just gone. And it's all his own fault. God, he wishes he'd just kept his mouth shut.

Then his phone goes off.

He tries to pretend it's not ringing for a moment, but the screen lights up the whole room, so he looks over.

It's Dream. Of course it is. Who else would it be.

He could just ignore it. He _should_ just ignore it, considering the state he's in right now, but it's Dream, so of course he won't. That's the problem here, isn't it.

He drags himself out of his desk chair and flops down onto his bed, thumbing open the call. His lights are off and his face must be a mess, so he answers voice only and drops the phone back onto the duvet next to him, collapsing back down with his head on his folded arms. Anyway, what's the fucking point of video call with Dream when it's only ever one way?

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it upset you that much. I didn't... I never meant to. And I'm so sorry I did." Dream sounds absolutely sincere and absolutely serious. It's kinda strange to hear. "I never wanted you to feel like I was leaving you out. It was just funny, y'know? I didn't really think... I guess I just didn't think."

There's something odd at the edge of Dream's voice. It could just be that he's being serious for once, worried perhaps that _he's_ the one to have ruined their friendship, not George. Or maybe like he's waiting for George to say something in particular, or to notice something, the same _ta-da_ tone when handing over a present. George rolls with the first one. Anything to take back as much of this evening as he can.

"S'alright," George mumbles, face buried in his arms still. "‘M just overreacting really." Maybe he can pull this back, maybe he hasn't actually ruined everything. He turns his head so his voice isn't as muffled in his sleeves anymore. He's being pathetic again, but he has to check. "You're not going to stop talking to me then?"

"No! God no." Dreams huffs a short laugh. "You gotta try harder than that to get rid of me."

The sudden relief is exhausting, and George laughs shortly back, risking letting himself smile. He props himself up onto his elbows to look down at his phone.

His eyes widen.

There's a face on the screen. It's not his own.

He snatches his phone up and holds it close to his nose, trying to work out if he's being scammed, if this could be someone else, if this could be a filter. Unless Dream has enlisted the help of a brother - because he's recognisable from the old yearbook photos that George _has_ seen, only obviously older - then It doesn't look like it.

It looks real. _Dream_ looks real.

" _Dream_??"

The face on the other end laughs awkwardly. "I guess you weren't looking at your phone then." Dream gives a little shy smile. "I thought about just sending you a photo, but I figured that wouldn't cut it at this point."

George just stares. The light in Dream's room is yellow and soft, too dim to really see the colour of his eyes, but catching gently on his hair, which is scruffy and stuck up at strange angles, like he's tried to sort it out but given up halfway through. In the low light it's a darker shade of blond than George had imagined it, but he doesn't care, of course he doesn't. Not when Dream is there on his screen, looking like he's trying to smile encouragingly through nerves. George wants to run this thumb over the image of Dream's cheek, but that would definitely count as _being weird about it_ , wouldn't it, so he stops himself. Instead he just keeps staring as he watches Dream scratch at his blond stubble, all the little tics and movements he'd never even thought about before.

"George? You still there?"

"Yeah, yeah," George says, trying to pull himself together. He thumbs the button and opens his own camera. The only light in his room comes from his phone screen, overly blue and casting strange shadows on his face. It's not flattering, but with luck it'll hide quite what a mess he's been since he turned his other camera off.

"George, have you been _crying_?"

Should've known luck wasn't on his side tonight. "Just leave it," George mutters defensively, scrubbing roughly at his eyes with his free hand. "Just, don't."

"That's not what I meant, _shit,_ George, I'm so sorry, I really am."

And for once, George can _see_ that, as well as just hear it. He can't help it, he smiles, and Dream smiles back with visible relief.

There's another pause, George trying to stop himself from grinning like an idiot, Dream looking awkward on the screen.

"Was it worth the wait?" Dream asks.

George hums with fake consideration. "I dunno. I reckon I'll have to see it a few more times before I can give you a proper opinion." _Oh my god shut_ up _, George._

Dream snorts. "You're so needy."

George shrugs, and flops down onto his side, resting his head on one arm and tilting the phone so it's almost like Dream is on the bed next to him. Sort of. Well, not at all, but this is the closest he's ever got. Probably the closest he ever will get, if he's honest.

And maybe Dream was right, maybe he should have kept himself hidden from George, because this is absolutely not going to make _not being weird about it_ any easier.

Dream suddenly looks uncomfortable again, and George immediately panics that he's gone too far and fucked it up already.

"Look, George, I just wanted to say, I appreciate you telling me the whole," Dream pauses, and waves his hand, " _thing_ , even if I don't think you really meant to."

George grimaces. Looks like he won't be able to gloss over everything from tonight. "I hadn't planned that, no…"

"I had no idea. I won't tell anyone either, I mean that. I promise."

"Thanks. ‘Cos you're, um, you're the first one."

"The first person you've told?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. Is ‘thanks' the right response here?"

George shrugs. "I dunno. I just said I've never done this before."

Dream laughs. George can't get over how good it is to actually see him smile - it takes the edge off the general terror of this entire conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking, um, you said ‘kinda'... I presume you mean you're, er..." It's weird to hear Dream trying so hard to be tactful.

"Bi. Yeah. I guess I am."

"Huh." Dream _squirms_ , and George braces himself. But Dream suddenly makes the effort to look straight at the camera. At George. The eye contact is a lot. George can't look away. "‘Cos, well. Me too."

George doesn't wait for the punchline. He hangs up.

Biting at the inside of his cheek works as well as trying to pull out his own hair did.

This time though he punches out a message.

_That's just fucking cruel_

Dream is typing almost before the sent notification appears.

_I wouldn't do that, you know I wouldn't. Especially not to you._

George's phone rings. He hits ignore. It rings again, he hits ignore again.

_Please just pick up your phone. Please._

It rings again. And keeps ringing. He still hits ignore.

_George please, answer me._

When George picks up Dream doesn't let him say a word before he's speaking.

"You're not the only person who knows for me," Dream says, and his camera's on again. It doesn't leave him anywhere to hide. "That's why I don't want my face out there. I don't want to risk it. I don't want to get recognised. It's millions of people George, actual millions, and that's _terrifying_. I wasn't prepared for that. I'm _barely_ out butI wouldn't be at all if I'd known just how much it..."

Dream peters out. George lets himself collapse backwards and stares at the ceiling. He feels like an arse for not saying anything, and for keeping his camera off, because everything Dream's said is more than fair, and he's telling George so much that he doesn't have to.

"Sorry," he mumbles. It's still only half an explanation, but George isn't sure he can bring himself to ask for the second part.

"And, um," Dream laughs awkwardly, carrying on oblivious to George's thoughts. "As for you… It's really not that I don't trust you." That much is clear from tonight at least. "I suppose I just care a bit too much what you think."

George sits up and turns on his camera.

"Fuck, I've made you cry twice in one night, I'm definitely fucking this up."

"You came out to me and I hung up on you, I think I'm fucking this up worse." And holy shit, yeah, Dream showed him his face and came out to him in the same evening. Isn't that something.

And then he said...

George is shaking again. "Promise me you're not messing with me."

"I promise."

"Tell me I didn't mishear you. Tell me I'm not getting this whole thing wrong."

"Only if you tell me the same." Dream looks nervous and hopeful and determined and ready to be hung up on again all at the same time. It's a lot to read on someone's face when you've only seen them for the first time that night.

Oh fuck, George is going to cry again, even though he's started laughing. This is so dumb. He's being such an idiot.

"George are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," he grins, and he can't help it, "so you mean it when you tell me you love me then," he teases. He feels lightheaded and stupid in the best ways, and safe enough that he can talk shit again.

Dream laughs abruptly. "Think I should probably see you in person before I can say that for sure."

George boggles. "You're kidding."

"I'm not kidding!" Dream is actually blushing.

"Guess I need to actually look into that visa sometime then."

"When we can, yeah, I'd like that."

George drops his head as he laughs, and then looks back again. For the first time in a long while he's actually feeling shy about being on camera. But then it's different when he can see how Dream looks back at him. This is absolutely nuts.

"You look different when you're looking at me," Dream says, and George groans, trying to hide his head in his shoulder without losing sight of the screen. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. "It's probably a good thing you've never been able to see me when you're streaming, everyone would be able to tell." Dream's only teasing, but if he's that obvious when he's in the half dark and right up close to his phone, there's no way he'd be subtle enough in semi-professional lighting and an HD webcam.

"Fuck."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

" _My_ secret?"

"Yeah," Dream says, like it's obvious, like he hasn't just admitted just as much.

They lapse into a silence that manages to be both awkward and comfortable at the same time. Dream doesn't seem to know what to do with himself when he's on camera. It's kind of adorable.

Then George ruins it by yawning.

"I should probably let you get some sleep," Dream says.

"Yeah, probably…" That means hanging up though, and George doesn't want this to end. "Will you call me like this again sometime?"

"If you want."

"Of course I want, you idiot."

"Then sure. Whenever you want. We can talk about, _this_ , too, when you're a bit more awake."

Dream's right, he'd never be able to hide it on stream, not if he gets anything like the soppiest grin ever that's on his face right now.

"Yeah, on a night when I haven't yelled at you, hung up on you twice, come out to you, and had you come out to me _and_ declare your undying love."

Dream scoffs. "It's fine, we all knew I was just trying to protect you from getting overwhelmed by how attractive I am."

"Just because you've had ages to get used to how incredible I look."

Dream laughs. "Go to bed, George."

"Don't miss me too much."

"Pfft."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Dream smiles, and the screen goes dark. George is left just staring at it, trying to give his brain a chance to process everything that's just happened.

His phone pings with a picture message.

It's not a great photo - it doesn't look like Dream is particularly used to taking selfies, but it looks like it was taken just now - the lighting is the same, and his hair is stuck up in all the same places.

_For your contacts,_ the message says.

_Not for your creepy shrine_ , says the message that immediately follows.

_Just because you've got my entire stream archive for yours,_ George replies. _You probably fall asleep to my videos._

_That would be lame._

The angel face emoji pops up next.

_Oh my god Dream you're such an idiot_

George lets his thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment. He wants to check again that this is real, that he won't wake up in the morning to find somehow that this was just a stupid misunderstanding, his sleep-deprived and anxiety-fuelled brain reading too much into everything.

_I'll see you tomorrow,_ pops up on his screen.

_I'll see YOU tomorrow,_ he sends back.

There's no wait before Dream's reply appears.

_Yeah, you will xxxx_


End file.
